


Another Side of You

by NephilimEQ



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, another side of you, joe nichols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4284543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephilimEQ/pseuds/NephilimEQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin and Kate are happily married...and, because of that, he knows more about her than anyone else. It's why he loves her as much as he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Side of You

** Another Side Of You**

_Well you rolled out of bed and stubbed your toe_  
_I heard you almost cuss_  
_And I fought back the urge to laugh_  
_Just listenin’ to you fuss_

I chuckle to myself when I hear a thump and a muffled curse under my wife’s breath coming from the bathroom. Then I hear the coffee maker go off late as I walk into the kitchen, throwing my sport coat over the back of one of the chairs at the island counter, and then hear my wife curse, yet again, as I heard the tell-tale sound of her hair-dryer sparking all the way from where I now stand behind the counter.

Cautiously, I pour myself a cup of coffee and then wince at the bitter taste. Yeah, we need a new coffee maker. It’s the fourth morning in a row that it’s ruined it.

She finally stumbles into the kitchen, hopping as she slips on her second shoe, running a hand through only partially dried hair.

_Then you overdid the coffee_  
_Couldn't get your hair just righ_ t  
_When I smiled and said good morning_  
_You looked mad enough to fight_

I watch her a moment longer, biting my lip to hide the amused the grin that wants to break through. I love my wife, but I know better than to laugh at her when she gets like this. She is frazzled and obviously distressed, so I need to be careful about what I may or may not say.

She continues to mutter under her breath, so I decide to take a risk, and simply say, “Mornin’, sweetheart.”

She glares at me.

“Kevin, not _now_.”

Oh, not good. I say nothing more, only watch as she pours herself a cup of coffee before I can warn her and watch her wince as she tastes the same horrible, bitter aftertaste as I did only a few moments earlier. She then grabs her own coat from the back of the other chair as she heads out the door, nearly tripping over Lucas’ toys that he hasn’t put away.

The kids are already at school; I put them on the bus half an hour ago. Lucas, our oldest at eight, starting fourth grade and Sarah and Elizabeth, our six year-old twin girls, starting second grade; all three of them have skipped a grade.

“Kate, I’ll see you at four?” I yell as she leaves, and I hear her yell back, “Fine, yeah, whatever! See you then!”

And then I hear a car door slam and an engine start. Yep. Off to work.

_Well that's another side of you  
_That I'm in love with too_ _

And she took the mini-van. Not exactly what either of us had ever expected driving, but when we’d had Lucas, it had become a necessity. Which left me with taking the bus. As per usual. The bus fare is eating a bit into our account, but it’ significantly cheaper than buying a second car and she won’t even _think_ about moving any closer to the city.

I’m working a desk job at the precinct in the local county, while she continues to work under Gates in the city for Homicide as lead detective.

I would never ask her to let go of that job. She’s good at it and she loves it. But…she doesn’t really love the _car_. I know Castle and Esposito, who are still working with her, have ragged on her about it more than a few times, but she grins and bears it because we’re saving up for a trip for the five of us to go out to visit my parents in Oregon. I want our kids to know their wonderful grandparents, who have been asking me for a while now when they are going get to spend some time with them.

Not for a bit longer, it would seem.

My job isn’t exactly making a lot of dough, either, but we’re trying…even though I silently loath the idiots who work around me every day. Sometimes I just want to take the damn files out of their hands and solve their cases for them…or hit them upside the head with them, but I manage to refrain from doing so.

I took a desk job so I could be with the kids. They don’t need _both_ parents being crime fighting heroes; one is more than enough.

_Yeah that mini-van is a far cry_  
_From the sports car in your dreams_  
_And that dead end job_  
_Is pushin’ back vacation more it seems_

I look over at the schedule that is pinned to our refrigerator under a magnet. In her hastily written scrawl, I read ‘Lucas, soccer, four thirty’ and ‘twins, ballet, five’ and I smile. All three of them have their mother’s energy and, unfortunately for us, my attention span, which forced us to put Lucas into soccer to expend his extra energy and the girls into ballet for theirs. It seems to be working, because by the time they usually have their dinner at almost six, they are already drifting and ready to go to bed.

Thinking of bed, I remember the night that Kate and I’d had just this past weekend, when Esposito had offered to watch the kids for us. Man, had that been an explosive night.

Looking at the time, and feeling a bit playful, I pick up my phone and dial her number as I walk out the door, throwing my coat on in the process.

“Beckett.”

“When are you ever going to say Ryan?” I ask her, entirely serious. I like the sound of Detective Kate Ryan. It has a nice ring to it. But I can practically hear her roll her eyes as she replies, “It’s just easier to do when I’m at the precinct, and it brings up less questions. Now, why’d you call?”

Tense. Definitely tense. Maybe I could ease some of that tension.

“I don’t know…just wonderin’ which underwear you were wearing today…”

I let the sentence trail off, trying to garner a response, but the one I receive isn’t the one that I expected.

“Are you kidding me?” I am confused, but just as I am about to respond, she says, “I _don’t_ have time for this Kevin! I am on a mob case right now, meaning I’m _more_ than a bit busy, and you call me up to ask me what kind of _underwear_ I’m wearing?”

“I, uh--”

She hangs up.

_You got soccer at 4:30_  
_And ballet class by 5:00_  
_Then I call you talkin' flirty_  
_You ask have I lost my mind_

I simply smile sadly down at the phone, realizing that now probably isn’t the best time, and press the end call button just as the bus pulls up to the corner just two blocks down from our suburban home. As I step onto the bus, I quickly text her, _Sorry, babe. I just miss you, already, that’s all. Hope you have a great day. Love you._

I pop my phone back into my pocket and smile when it buzzes not a minute later.

I pull it back out and read the text she has just sent me.

_Sorry about snapping at you. Gates got on my case for being late this morning. Love you, too._

At reading that, I feel more relieved. I knew that there must have been another reason for her violent reaction. I am about to put it back into my pocket, when it buzzes a second time and I have to bite back a smirk that comes to my lips when I read, _Blue lace, btw. Maybe you’ll see it tonight. ;)_

God, I love my wife.

_Well that's another side of you  
_That I'm in love with too_ _

\--

_When you lay down in my arms_  
_Let go of all that stress_  
_Whisper honey I love you_  
_With your head on my chest_  
_When the world's strongest woman is my lady_  
_When the day is through_

The day goes by in a haze of paper work, which I manage to actually finish for once and skip out a bit early to meet my wife at home before she picks up the kids after school. Even though I have insisted more than once that it is not a problem for me to pick them up, she simply insists that she wants to do it, and I can understand why.

She loves to spend time with them, and doesn’t get a lot of chances, so she takes advantage of it during the week as much as she can.

I step through the door and smile when I hear her upstairs, scrambling to find Lucas’s soccer ball and practice uniform, as well as the girls’ ballet shoes and clothes.

Feeling benevolent, I walk upstairs and lean in the doorway to the twins’ room, watching her for a long moment as she reaches under their bed, trying in vain to find their ballet slippers. I watch her for a few moments longer…and then I move a couple of books off of the bookshelf and pull out the pink shoes and say, “Looking for these?”

Her eyes snap up to mine, obviously surprised.

“God, Kevin! I didn’t even know you were home,” she says, quickly standing up and reaching for the shoes, snatching them from my hand. “Make more noise when you come in from now on, okay?”

She’s still tense.

Quickly acting, not bothering to think too intently about what I’m doing, I reach for her and pull her into a soft kiss, slipping my hands around her waist, holding her tightly to me. At first, she’s surprised…but I then feel the tension leaving her and we sink into the kiss.

I slowly pull back from it after a few moments and I am pleased to see her eyes still closed and her lips slightly parted.

God, she’s beautiful.

“Kate…?”

She shakes her head, as though coming out of a daze, making my ego just a bit bigger from her reaction, and then says, “Wow…I really needed that.” Her eyes open the rest of the way and she gives me a broad smile as she asks, “What did I ever do to deserve a husband like you?”

I shrug and say, “Oh, not a thing. But I chose you, anyway.”

She slaps my shoulder with the hand still holding the ballet slippers and, giving me a look with an arched eyebrow, replies with, “You and your ego,” but from the way her eyes are sparkling and the way that she can’t stop the grin from showing, I know that she doesn’t mean a word of it.

Kate pulls away and heads over to Lucas’s room, where I follow her and then proceed to find all of the things that she can’t.

Afterwards, I take a look at my phone and see that we still have some time before we have to leave, so I throw the shoes and clothes into three separate bags and help my wife down to the couch.

At first, she protests, but I silence her with, “We have some time, so just relax, sweetheart,” and, to my surprise, she does. She not only brings her feet up on the couch, but she also puts her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes.

We stay there for a few minutes and then I look at the time.

Now we have to go.

“Kate,” I say gently, not wanting to jar her from her content state. “It’s time to pick up the kids.”

She rouses herself from her comfortable resting place on my shoulder and then whispers into my ear as she gets up from the couch, “I love you,” and I smile. I stand up and walk over to her, placing another kiss on her upturned lips and say, “I love you, too,” and we head out the door together.

It’s rare for us to pick the kids up together, and I’m certain they’ll love it.

But nowhere near as much as I love and adore their mother.

_Well that's another side of you  
_That I'm in love with too_ _

\--

_If I had to do the things you do_  
_Well I'd just lose my mind_  
_Somehow you get ‘em fed and bathed_  
_And settled down by nine_

Somehow, and I honestly don’t know how, it is already seven thirty and Kate has managed to make dinner and feed the five of us and is now starting bath time. Lucas is old enough that he can do it all on his own, but from the giggles that I’m hearing coming from the bathroom, I am certain that she has Sarah and Lizzie in the tub.

Quickly, I finish putting the dishes in the dishwasher and head up the stairs.

Exhausted, but not exhausted enough to head straight for our bedroom, I stop in the doorway to the bathroom…and I smile at what I see.

Lizzie is avidly splashing her sister, who is five minutes older than her, and getting my wife wet in the process. She changed clothes, of course, before she began bath time with the ferocious six-year olds, but it doesn’t seem to matter because her hair and gray tank-top are covered in soapy water, as well as her sweat pants. However, my wife doesn’t seem to care, and is splashing them as well, a smile on her face wider than anything I’ve seen in a long while.

I watch for a few moments longer, leaning against the doorjamb with my arms across my chest, amused at the sight…but then I am outed by my youngest.

Lizzie raises a soap-bubble covered hand and waves it in the air in my direction, saying, “Da-dee!”, and Kate turns her head.

Busted.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, raising her eyebrow in her infamous interrogative look, and I smile.

“Long enough to know that I’m helping,” I reply and when she grins at my answer, I know that it was the right one. I move into the bathroom, grabbing one of the yellow towels from the towel bar and motioning to the older one, saying, “C’mon, Sarah-bear; time to get out.”

She comes to the edge of the tub at the sound of her nickname and stands, raising her suds-covered arms high above her head, and I pull her out and begin to towel her off, smiling when I hear her say, “Da-dee! I want mommy to read us a bedtime stowee!”

She still can’t say her r’s all the time, and the sound of her asking me to have Kate read them a story melts my heart. Usually I am the one who reads them their bed time story, but when I drop the towel and see the look in her eyes, I relent. Man, that little girl really _does_ have me wrapped around her finger. Kate and I finish drying the girls off and get them into their pajamas, and then my wife gives me smile as she pulls out one of their favorite books from the shelf, _The Giving Tree._

_And I hear you down the hallway_  
_As you lay ‘em down to sleep_  
_And pray the good lord watches over them for you and me_

Knowing this is when she usually leaves me alone to read to them, I give her the same courtesy and vanish down the hallway to our bedroom, but because the door to the girl’s bedroom is still open a crack, I can hear her reading them the story.

She finishes the story with the words, “And the tree was happy…the end.”

I then hear her ask them to fold their arms and she says a prayer with them. She’s not religious, but she knows that I am, so she started praying with me when Lucas was just a few months old. 

I hear two small amen’s, along with hers, and I wait until she slips into Lucas’s room, where I’ve already said goodnight, and she says a small prayer with him, as well, and I think I’ve fallen in love with her just a little bit more, which I didn’t think was even possible until now.

She then comes towards the bedroom and when she sees me standing in the doorway, she ducks her head and flushes, as though she’s embarrassed, but I put my hand under her chin and lift her eyes back to mine and say, “Hey…you’re an _amazing_ mom, you know that?”

She just shrugs and slips past me into our bedroom.

I lock the door behind her and watch her as she slides off her still wet clothes and slips into a t-shirt and a pair of running shorts and I smile when I see that, yes, she wore blue lace underwear today…along with a plain black sports bra. That’s my wife; practical, but with a hidden girly side that she manages to hide from everyone else but me.

I sit on the bed and watch her as she goes into the bathroom to wash off her makeup and marvel at the fact that even without it, she is still the most beautiful woman in the world, to me.

When she steps back into the room she joins me and moves to her side of the bed, obviously intending to sleep, but in a deft maneuver, I roll the two of us down over the sheets, pinning her beneath me, leaving her slightly breathless because of my quick and unexpected actions.

“Kevin…!”

I arch an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, Kate?”

She looks pointedly towards the door, but seeing it closed and locked, her words of reproach go out the window and I smile when she leans a bit more into the comforter and smiles up at me, a devilish smile that only my eyes have ever seen.

“Never mind,” she says, and I can feel my own smirk cross my lips as I lean down and press a firm kiss to her wonderful mouth.

She teases me in her subtle way and I smile as she manages to turn the tables and flip me over onto my back, using her strong legs to straddle me as she begins to torment me in the oldest way known to man that she does so well.

And, as we begin to quietly make love, I marvel at the fact that Kate Beckett, now Ryan, is my wife.

And that I don’t just love her; I love all of her. As my best friend, as the mother of my children, as my lover, and, of course, as my wife. Each and every single part of her is beautiful to me…and she is mine for the rest of my life.

_Well that's another side of you_  
_That I'm in love with too_  
_Well that's another side of you_  
_That I'm in love with too_

**THE END**


End file.
